


Unseen Wonders of the Hidden World

by Brekkerenthusiast (DauntlessDreamer)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: 1940s, Backstory, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Canon Compliant, Drama, F/M, Family History, Fluff, Hurt Nico di Angelo, Internalized Homophobia, Italiano | Italian, Lotus Hotel and Casino, M/M, Pre-Canon, Roman Catholicism, Time Travel, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DauntlessDreamer/pseuds/Brekkerenthusiast
Summary: Maria di Angelo is doing just fine.  She's perfectly content amongst her easels and charcoal, painting pictures of creatures no one else can see, dryads, water sprits, and ominous creatures lurking in the corn fields. But when a mysterious man comes to her quaint community in Venice he's intrigued by her style and offers a generous sum for a commission. Maria's life is turned upside-down by this daunting stranger who is definitely more than meets the eye.-Nico di Angelo has an awesome mom, a great big sister and a dad who isn't around very often but always tells him stories about Hercules. His comfortable life on the edge of Venice comes crashing down when his mother is taken away from them... and then everything else is blank. As he grows up, Nico finds that he can hardly recognize the family he once loved.-The history of the di Angelo's is left virtually unexplored, until now.
Relationships: Bianca di Angelo & Maria di Angelo, Bianca di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Hades/Persephone (Percy Jackson), Maria di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Maria di Angelo/Hades, Nico di Angelo & Hades, Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 17
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m hoping that by my 23rd birthday Father will have secured me a spot working up at the Peninsula, and then by March I can rent my own apartment…”

Maria continues to politely sip her Bellini and drums her gloved fingers on the table as the man across from her drones on about his dull work aspirations. He’s attractive by today’s standards- strong jaw touched with a five o’clock shadow, black hair curling at the ears, taller than average.

Alonzo talks animatedly with his hands, his eyes glinting with excitement, successfully catching the fancy of many women in the ambient restaurant. And yet, Maria finds herself barely able to pay attention.

Normally, by this time her maids would be helping her pick an outfit for a night of dancing. Her friend Carmela loves to drag Maria out each Friday for a night on the town. After a long day staring at her canvases they’d both find some stranger to dance up against in the darkness of the nearest club. 

Maria and Carmela often leave the dance hall, makeup smudged, gloves shucked off, while the neighborhood women shake their heads in loathing. After all, Maria is a wealthy young lady, she should be back at the manor saying her evening prayers, practicing the cooking she’d need as a wife one day and keeping her skirt well below her knees. 

That life had never intrigued Maria. 

From a young age her sister Diana loved to cook, and their mother often praised her embroidery and poise. Her older brother Bruno excelled at football and had a keen mind for arithmancy. 

Meanwhile, Maria would rather stay up in her room creating with her pencils and paper, dressed in her favourite pair of overalls, or racing with her neighbors along the edge of the canals. She’d come home for dinner covered in dust and charcoal and her parents never said a word. After all they had two other children who fit the norms of society, why must they ruin their youngest daughter’s happiness?

But Maria had just turned 18 last month and her father had put his foot down. 

Bruno had put his arithmetic to good use and enlisted in the army as an engineer, only to pass away two months in on a mission in Ethiopia, Father says it was shell-shock that did him in. Their mother, stricken with grief, had suffered a fatal heart attack after a lack of appetite.

In the wake of these losses the remaining three di Angelos had been forced to make some tough choices. Without her mother there to soften his anger Maria’s father insisted that she stop acting so childish and be a lady.

No more messing about in effeminate trousers covered in paint and ink. She would have to start acting like a young woman and either turn her art into a career or start working at the local ristorante.

So here she is on a date that her father set up. Alonzo is the son of a man her father works with at the Foreign Service Office. Maria had cancelled her plans with Carmela and even braided her hair for a man who’d spent the whole evening talking about himself. Maria doubted he could tell the difference between her and half the ladies in this room.

Maria longs for her paint and canvases right now, she has a showcase booked tomorrow in the early morning and had hoped that following this dinner date she might visit the exhibit to make sure all of her artwork was in order for the big day tomorrow. It seems that she might never make it there if Alonzo continues talking. 

Suddenly her glass of Bellini, rim stained with red lipstick, jumps out of her hand as a man in a fitted grey suit knocks into their dining table. Effectively spilling all of Alonzo’s red wine across his dress shirt and the expensive satin table cloth.

“Terribly sorry sir I must have tripped over my own feet,” the stranger calmly explains. He has an accent that curls around the words he speaks. Maria has attended enough foreign exchange parties with her father to understand when Italian isn’t someone’s first language. So, clearly not from around her then.

Alonzo is now standing up dabbing at his stained shirt with a white cloth napkin, hoping that by some miracle it might help; instead the crimson spreads further. 

“You fool! I just got this back from the dry cleaners!” Alonzo erupts, he is now drawing the attention of the people in the restaurant for a completely different reason, his fair eyebrows coming together in anger, his cupid lips forming an unwelcoming scowl.

The stranger bows his head, “once again sir I’m sorry for my clumsiness.” He grabs the sleeve of a passing waiter, and grabs a stack of serviettes. He hands them to Alonzo, who seems to have resorted to vigorously rubbing at the stain, grunts out a quiet “have a nice evening,” and briskly walks towards the exit. 

Although her dinner was rather good and she’d hoped to finish it, Maria can’t help but be grateful towards the stranger, she doesn’t know how much of Alonzo and his boring conversations she could manage. 

“Well, it’s been a delight Alonzo,” she grits her teeth through the lie, “but I do have to get up awful early and I think you should probably get your shirt through the laundry.” With a polite peck to her date’s cheek Maria scampers past him towards the exit.

***

She’s always felt calmest amongst her artwork. 

When she was younger Maria used to grab at her father’s trousers and point out the wonders she saw. Beady eyed girls melting out of the trees in vineyards, skin the colour of chlorophyll. Grey looking cows grazing along the edges of the canals. Peculiar looking shapes moving in the wheat fields of her grandfather's farm in Sicily. 

Her father used to tease her for her overactive imagination. You paint your thoughts in the sky Maria.

But as she got older her father stopped playing along. When she mentioned the strange haired girls peeking from underneath a gondola in the canals he started giving her worried looks.

When she was 10 years old her next door neighbor Martino was sent away to someplace called an institution, she vividly remembers the medics coming for him in the middle of the night. From her parents' hushed conversations and the gossip of the town, Maria gathered that Martino had been hurting himself, wrestling with things that weren't there, plagued by what her father called delusions.

From then on Maria released not everyone could see the things she could. She would have to keep the secret world she was part of contained between the confines of some acrylic and a canvas.

But right now, standing in a gallery of pure creation amongst her very own “delusions”, this is where Maria is most comfortable.

She walks absentmindedly from piece to piece. Each display is covered by a heavy white sheet to protect from dust and dirt until the unveiling tomorrow. 

Maria can hardly believe she’s come this far. When her father told her that she would have to make her art a career or leave it behind, she expected nothing but a few regular commissions from family friends or a couple art classes here and there. 

But, when the local piece asked for her help restoring a painting in the church, the whole town caught wind and Maria’s talent came to life. 

Camila had originally wanted to call the gallery something classy and ominous like Perspective but that isn’t Maria’s style. She’d opted for Unseen Wonders of the Hidden World to exaggerate the true essence of her work.

She rounds the corner where her black and white paintings are stored and her heel catches on the edge of some frayed carpet, bringing down the sheet she had been adjusting on one of her paintings.

“I’d been hoping I might catch a sneak peek.” An accented voice drawls from the doorway.

Maria straightens up and adjusts the sheets, “visiting hours are closed sir.” The reply leaves her mouth instinctively before she has the chance to recognize the voice as the man from the restaurant. 

The intruder walks further into the room, his shoes echoing in the grand room; under the few lights Maria has turned on, she finally gets her first good look at him. He’s not as tall as Alonzo, roughly the same height as Maria in fact. However, his lithe features are enhanced by his neatly tailored grey suit and his sleek business shoes. His jaw is sharp and clean of stubble, highlighting his pale olive skin tone, not unlike her own. The purple in his tie brings out the contrast in his black eyes, Maria has never met someone with black iris before, but it makes her fingers itch for her coloured pencils all the same.

He gives her a lopsided smirk, “well of course visiting hours are closed, that’s the best time to explore don’t you think?” He throws his arms open as if to encompass the wonders of the deserted museum.

Maria’s eyes dart around the familiar walls, but the security guard she passed on her way in is nowhere in sight.

“How did you get in here?” Her mind is telling her that this is the sort of situation to be startled and creeped out by, but Maria finds herself intrigued by the mysterious figure rather than afraid, she stands taller to accentuate her confidence. Something about his presence makes her feel oddly centered.

The figure chuckles lightly at her question. “Let’s just say my family has...connections with this museum and I may or may not be a regular nighttime visitor,” at Maria’s silence he continues. “I recognize your art style from the mural in the town square, but I had no idea the artist was the same beautiful woman I saw at dinner.” 

Maria feels her cheeks flush dark at his compliment. It’s common for men in Italy to be bold with their praise but no one has ever spared those sort of words for Maria when her perfect older sister was a far more desirable option.

“I hardly thought you would remember such a small detail as the lady from a table you accidentally bumped into.” It’s true, this man exudes wealth and professionalism, what sort of interest would he have in a young, peculiar town girl?

“It was hardly an accident ma’am, I could see you were struggling to pay attention to your date.” The man meets her eyes for the first time and Maria finds herself pinned by the contact. 

“The whole restaurant could hear him boasting about his career and I thought I might offer you a chance to escape.”

She flushes once again “Well could you blame me?” She gestures around with her hands, “given the choice between a conversation about Peninsula construction and visiting my art exhibit I think you understand which scenario I’d choose.”

The man lets out a light chuckle, his mouth crooking up on one side unevenly and it suddenly humanizes him. He is no longer a rich unattainable business man, but a good looking guy who just so happens to think Maria is beautiful. She feels her cheeks flush as her eyes slowly drag up his figure.

“Yes I too enjoy traipsing around art European art museums, but recently I’ve found myself drawn to this gallery, particularly your exhibits. Have you ever received a commission?”

Maria feels herself gawk at the man’s question. There was no doubt in town that Maria was talented, yet her neighbors started at her work with a mix of awe and horror. People admired her art, but they also found it peculiar, no one would want it hanging in their home.

I didn’t help that no self-respecting lady spurned the company of a husband and a family in favour of easels and paint. 

“Excuse me?” She feels herself slowly stutter out.

The stranger meets her eyes “Would you mind if we continue in English? My Italian is quite unpracticed?”

Maria feels herself nod as her brain slowly adjusts to the American English customs her father insisted she learn.

“Though many people analyze your artwork as odd, I seek comfort in the mystery of your paintings.” He lifts up the corner of a sheet to gain a closer look, “I’m wondering if perhaps you might like to paint for me?” 

The stranger pauses and looks around as if to make sure no one else is listening in.

“My name is Aidoneus and I come from wealthy Greek heritage in America and am willing to pay top dollar for one of your creations.”

She’s nodding her head before the last words are even out of her mouth. This is exactly what she needs. With the right amount of money she can find the funds to rent out an apartment with a studio for her artwork. Maybe her father will start taking her seriously, maybe the ladies at service will stop pestering her about finding a husband.

Maria finds a scrap of paper in her purse and pulls a pencil off of one of visitor’s center desks. She jots down Adonais at the top of the page, gawking at how she probably butchered the spelling, and looks to the man in front of her.

“Are there any details you can offer about what sort of painting you're interested in? Style, subject, material, size and even a last name would be helpful.”

She readies her pencil against the paper, but the man waves his hand in dismissal.

“The details of the painting are far too extensive for mere pencil and paper. Perhaps we can discuss them over lunch tomorrow afternoon, say 1:00?”

The stranger's crooked grin is back and Maria wonders if this lunch proposal is completely professional in nature. Maria wonders if she even wants it to be.

“We can meet at the same restaurant that we met this evening. And as for the last name, Hades will do just fine. Goodnight Maria.” 

Without another word Aidoneus has turned on his heel and is making his way towards the exit, expensive shoes clapping against the polished floor. 

For the first time since her 18th birthday, Maria finds herself excited to be meeting a man for lunch at the local deli. 

***

Maria shivers and draws the duvet tighter around her form. She’d left the window open last night after smoking a cigar, now she thinks it might not have been a very good idea. 

Getting out of bed, she grabs her nightgown and moves over the balcony. Curling her toes on the cold floor Maria looks out and sees that the day is gloomy and overcast. Her favourite kind of weather.

As if to add to her peculiar personality, she found warm, sunny days tedious. The blistering sunlight just made her feel more strangled in her fitted dresses and stockings. Instead she often longed for the forceful wind that came with a thunderstorm, the way the earth seems to visibly shake and trees seem to bend when the sky opened up and it poured.

The dark sky meant people would retreat indoors. This could mean more visitors at her show, or more people staying comfortably inside their homes.

Either way, standing up and running her fingers through her coarse dark curls, Maria feels optimistic. 

A light knock on the doors turns her head and Gianna enters. The family maid has always been so much more than a maid. Gianna had been with her mother’s family since she was a young lady, and when her parents wed Gianna had come along for the journey.

The house which used to hold her mother’s delicious cooking, her father’s contagious laughter and her brother’s clever humor now felt empty and desolate, with only 3 remaining occupants. And yet Gianna remained, her old age was no deterrent to her joyous personality, she never failed to make Maria smile.

“I’ve prepared some tea for this morning and I thought we could decide on an outfit for your show this morning.” She turns and sets down the food tray and then makes her way to the giant wardrobe is the corner of the room. 

“It’s supposed to be a little cold today, so unless you have other plans in the afternoon I think I’ll grab your grey pea coat to keep you warm.” Gianna proclaims from where her head is stuck in the closet.

Maria hesitates before saying quietly, “Actually Gi, I have plans this afternoon with a gentleman so it’s best I dress light when I’m indoors.” Though she drops her gaze to the floor, Maria can feel Gianna’s wide gaze and shocked expression turned on her.

When she raises her eyes to look at one of her oldest friends Maria is pleased to see that the shocked expression has left Gianna’s face. Instead there is a warm, welcoming smile in place- not unlike when Maria used to come home in her overalls covered in dirt or sweat, or when the older women would take Maria’s hands in her own and scrubs them free of paint or charcoal. A look of pure pride and excitement. 

“Well,” Gianna says, “we’d best pull out your violet dress and your reddest lipstick.” Where Carmella would pester for details and her father would grumble “it’s about time” under his breath, Maria is glad that Gi takes this in stride.

After all, it’s only a lunch meeting to discuss a business arrangement, right?


	2. Chapter 2

Maria tugs at her gloves absentmindedly and fiddles with the bun on top of her head. There are far more people here then she’d anticipated and she can see her father in the corner beaming with pride. He gestures boisterously at her artwork while talking to one of his co-workers, she can almost hear the praise leaving his mouth. It makes her sad that all it took to make her father proud was some financial success.

Maria wonders distractedly if the huge turnout is in part due to Aidoneus. Many of the figures in this room are well dressed and although that’s not unusual in Italy, their fashion is characteristically old-fashioned and foreign. 

A couple stands studying her painting Nel Campo with their arms wrapped around one another, and she can’t help but notice that the man’s tall stockings and the woman’s long gown seem quite out of place in this setting.

The sound of cutlery on a champagne glass breaks her train of thought and the eyes of the room collectively fix on her father.

“I’d like to take this moment to recognize the artist behind all this work,” he extends a hand in her direction, “my lovely daughter, Maria who has spent countless hours on these beautiful creations.” 

Maria stumbles into a curtsy as the room applauds her and more and more people come up to congratulate her or question her about her work.

Her father and the communities’ support are nice, but also very overwhelming and half an hour later Maria finds herself claiming a headache and telling her father she’s going to head back to the manor.

Rounding the corner out of the gallery, she finds it easier to breathe. Perhaps the idea of a husband and a family is so intimidating because she struggles to be around people so much. It’s much much easier to be alone, or even with company in companionable silence. 

Pushing open the door to the museum Maria draws her arms tightly around her body, wishing she had wen twitch Gianna advice and worn the pea coat. It’s raining very lightly out and she knows in minutes she’ll be either freezing or soaked. 

From behind her she hears a light chuckle, “cold?”

She hadn’t noticed but standing in the shadows of the museum structure is none other than Aidoneus. Today he’s clad in a black suit with vertical stripes running down it’s length, there’s an attractive fedora on his head with a red ribbon that matches his silk tie. To top it off there's a cigar between his lips which Maria finds herself focusing on.

In her violet cotton dress she longs for his layers, “a little bit, I thought I might be inside longer.”  
She gestures at the door, “but the volume of people in there was becoming a little much for me.”  
He comes to stand beside her, and where most people would bring warmth with them, the space next to him leaves Maria chilled. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” he responds. “I often find the company of others too much to bear as well.”

He takes another drag of his cigar before offering it to Maria, “I guess the good news is that perhaps with our dislike for the company of others we might be alone together instead?”

It’s then that Maria remembers the lunch they had scheduled for this afternoon to discuss their business arrangement, “right of course, you were hoping to solidify our business deal.”

Aidoneus’s smile falters for a moment before the easy grin falls back into place. “Right exactly,” he gestures in front of him, “I’m not from around her so I’m afraid you’re going to have to lead the way to a nice restaurant.”

***  
They find themselves in a little cafe with good sandwiches and gelato. Instead of going to the same restaurant as yesterday, Maria had hoped that this quaint shop that laid slightly off the beaten path would grant them some privacy. 

Though her father had been pushing Maria around on dates since her 18th birthday, she can’t imagine he would be too pleased with her having dinner with an older man, of foreign descent. It’s common knowledge in her town that women are to marry a young, Italian man, of the Catholic faith. 

Looking across the table, Maria finds she doesn’t care if this is out of the norm. Since she was young she’s defied the norms of a Catholic, young lady. Why should she shop now?

Hoping to get to the root of things (this is a business lunch after all) Maria clears her throat and catches Aidoneus’s eye. 

“So, you were hoping to discuss the details of your painting order?”

He folds his hands in front of him and meets her gaze, “yes, I’ve admired your style for quite some time now, especially the works featuring the creatures.”

Maria’s brows pull together, “creatures?”

He grins at her, “yes, the nymphs, the spirits, the karpois. They’re so realistic.”

Maria’s mouth drops open. So realistic. Was the man in front of her admitting that he saw peculiar creatures in the streets as well? Was he subjected to the same delusions as her?  
She leans closer across the table and lowers her voice, “you see them too?” she glances around to ensure they aren’t being overheard, “the monsters?”

Aidoneus’s face meets her level as he says “all the time, though I wouldn’t call all of them monsters, at least not the ones you paint.” 

With only an intimate distance between them and such a bold confession Maria finds herself looking at his lips. How is it possible that the most handsome man alive is also one of the only people she’s ever encountered to understand her particular brand of lunacy?

He pulls back and takes a sip of the water the waiter had brought them a short while ago, breaking the moment Maria thought they shared. Along with the water the waiter had brought them menus, Maria quickly made a selection, but Aidoneus waved it away claiming lack of hunger.

Though this is common the fact that he was the one who invited her to dinner seems peculiar if he isn’t going to eat. 

“I want you to paint something I haven't seen before. The underworld. The subject can be your choice and so can the colour scheme and medium.”

At her lack of response he questions, “I’m sure you’re familiar with Greek mythology, correct?”

Familiar? No, Maria wouldn’t call it that. More like, Maria had been raised in a strict Catholic community, and entertaining the notion that there might be other gods out there was out of the question. 

If her father found her painting a picture of the Underworld her sanity would definitely be questions. But, this stranger's addictive smile and large funds are too good to pass up.

Maria nods her head, “of course such!”

Hades reclines in his chair and she feels his legs cross as they blush hers under the table, “well then, the rest is up to you. I’ll bring 100 dollars a month to pay you and gauge your progress, if paint or supply cost will be a problem then let me know.”

She simply nods her head as to appear somewhat professional, but on the inside her heart is bursting with fireworks. How better is there to show her father her art is serious than to score a committed buyer with impeccable financing? 

And the way he looks at her across the table doesn’t hurt either.

“Well I promised you a lunch so let’s drop the formalities, shall we?”  
As she waits for her food to arrive and convinces Aidoneus to order a small serving of risotto they make small talk. Though it’s not nearly as awkward as Maria feels with other people. 

He asks her (with a devilish look in his eye) what it was like to grow up in the city of love, and she in turn, tries to pry more answers out of him about living in Greece.

He gives her vague answers- it was a long time ago and my family can be difficult to handle. 

By the time Maria’s wine glass is significantly less full the supper crowd is coming in. As Hades glances around at the passer byers with an otherworldly sort of attention she realizes that Gianna and her father are probably expecting her home. 

She turns to tell him she must get going but finds him already looking at her, when he sees she’s realized he casts his eyes downward.

“Well Maria, I imagine I’ve kept you far longer than you anticipated and I wouldn’t want you to walk home in the dark.”

She smirks, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Oh I don’t worry about the dark, but about the cold, you were shivering earlier in your thin dress,” his eyes rake down her figure, “I would walk you home, but I think we both know you don’t want the neighbors asking questions.”

She blushes, but doesn’t deny it, after all how would her sister react if word got back that she was traipsing around at dark with a tall, shadowy, figure?

“How about I lend you my jacket so you don’t catch a cold?” Hades says.

She doesn’t mention that it rarely drops below zero degrees celsius. Instead, they both stand up and Hades drops a stack of bills on the table (she’s mindful of the very large tip). Hades draws off his expensive suit jacket and motions for her to turn around. 

She slips her arms through the jacket and he wraps it around her. Though he isn’t a bulky man, the jacket feels baggy and masculine on her.

As he pulls away and she turns to face him, Maria sees the light catch an object on his left hand.

Sitting on Hades third finger is a modest, yet elegant opal ring. He sees her gaze and an indescribable look graces his features.

“Ah yes, the ring. My wife insists that it’s supposed to help with my memory, but I fail to see how a ring on my finger can fix the thoughts in my head.” 

Maria feels herself nod and smile, she mumbles something along the lines of my mother loved opals. On the inside though, she feels like her heart is a balloon which Hades just stuck a pin through. Pop!

A wife? She can’t believe she let herself believe that Hades actually liked her. Now that she thinks about it, the handsome man, who compliments her art, gives her money, and buys her food seems too good to be true. Of course he has a wife, probably a dozen, pale skinned, suit wearing kids at home. 

Maria finishes her internal panic and finds Hades looking at her. He takes her callused short hands, which lies between them and curls his cold, slender fingers around them affectionately. 

She starts to believe she imagined the whole wife conversation when he leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Good night Ms. di Angelo,” he says and walks out the door.

***

On her walk home Maria takes a turn onto the Bridge of Sighs and yells out onto the water. A man walking past with his wife and their dog gives her an odd look and tugs the leash a little closer. 

She leans her elbows on the railing and rests her head in her hands, running her fingers through her thick locks. Why in the hell are men so confusing? I mean a kiss on the cheek is standard greeting or farewell, but holding her hand? He might as well have proposed marriage. With the wife and the sappy opal ring of course there's no romance behind it. 

Heels clacking on the cobblestone path Maria misses her sister. Following behind Diana always fostered jealousy in Maria. The dresses always fit her just right, her cooking always made mother groan with delight, and her poise and beauty were always drawing the attention of young suitors. 

Regardless, growing up with Diana meant that she had an older girl to look up to who wasn’t her mother. Someone to talk about her crush on Ignacio Marco in the fifth grade and someone to complain about Marco to when they got in a fight. Diana wasn’t perfect but she was a built-in friend, someone who loved Maria despite her oddness.

She sees the lights of her front door in the distance, the manor a comforting sight from the long walk. When she gets closer a figure steps out into the light, even after weeks of being apart Maria recognizes the bossy stance of hands on hips that characterizes Diana. 

She wants nothing more than to talk this whole night over with her sister.


	3. Chapter 3

Last May, Diana had married Leonardo Ramero. Their courtship had been the talk of the town, gossip spreading through the summer heat. Being the daughter of a wealthy ambassador meant that Diana’s status was relatively high. She had received a prestigious education and could play 2 different instruments. Suitors often visited the di Angelo manor, clamouring for her hand in marriage without knowing more than her name and her reputation of beauty.

No one had expected the husband she picked.

The Romero’s were a crime family. Though the di Angelos possessed honest wealth, Mr. Romero had connections to the mafia and his bills were paid through shady business deals and poorly concealed hustles. When his son, Leonardo, refused to follow in his father’s footsteps he had been cut out of the family, left with no money and no place to live.

Leo was taken in by the local preacher, and he assisted with church maintenance in exchange for a bed in the loft. In the daytime he worked as a gondolier. When Diana caught his eye on a boat ride back from the seamstress he asked her for lunch. He’d expected a quiet rejection, but the whole town was shocked when one date turned into two, and then five, and then a hasty engagement, and a spontaneous wedding.

How could a lady of such poise taint herself with a poor, criminalised, citizen?

Nonetheless, Diana and Leo continued their relationship. She battled the scornful looks of the community with passive aggressive displays of affection and fearless commitment. Maybe her sister wasn’t so perfect after all.

From that day on Maria saw Diana in a new light. No longer was she the flawless woman of everyone’s daydreams, an unrealistic expectation Maria had to live up to; she had hidden aspirations and rebellions just like Maria.

Only nine months into the marriage, it was odd to see Diana at the family manor. After the wedding, their father had insisted Diana and Leo move into one of the apartments their family owned about an hour away. No daughter of mine will sleep above a dusty old church.

With Leo continuing work as a gondolier and Diana taking work where she could get as a seamstress, they were slowly building a life together, even amidst the economic depression. Typically, they came to the family manor for dinner once a month, Diana’s random appearance was unusual.

When Maria arrived at the house, still in a daze from her strangely enchanting dinner, Diana had wrapped her in a warm hug. She’d ushered Maria into the kitchen without a word, but out of the corner of her eye Maria saw that the freckled skin below her eyes was swollen and red.

Now, Maria sits in one of the cushioned chairs of the kitchen, her shoes are kicked off under the table and she flexes her painted toes as Diana rushes around and prepares them both a latte macchiato. 

She always does this when she’s upset- acts all motherly that is. When father and mother used to argue in hushed tones in the dining room, Diana would pull Maria into the kitchen and teach her how to make pasta. When the first boy Diana had ever liked kissed another girl, she came home and spent hours drawing with Maria in the sitting room.

Caring for others made her worries disappear.

Perhaps her and Leo had fought, maybe that’s why she came here for the night?

“Biscuit?” Diana questions, breaking Maria out of her pondering. Maria nods and Diana joins her at the table, bringing the ruby tin of cookies along with her. 

The two of them munch happily on the fluffy sugar cookies and dip them in their beverages before Maria’s curiosity gets the best of her, “So…how’s marriage treating you?”

Diana shrugs and bows her head, so Maria prods with a smirk, “The honeymoon phase as dreamy as everyone says it is?”

Diana’s shoulders begin to shake and the smile drops off Maria's face like butter melting in the sun. Her older sister looks up and gazes at Maria, pools of tears leave her eyes and she lets out a quiet cry only for Maria to hear.

She tugs her older sister towards her and lets her cry into the sleeves of Hades striped suit jacket, which is still wrapped bagily around her shoulders. Diana’s hands clutch desperately against Maria’s back as she sobs; clearly this is more than just some quarrel she and Leo had.

After quite some time she hears Diana’s muffled confession vibrate against her arm, “He’s so perfect Maria.”

She lifts Diana’s chin and gives her a confused look while allowing her time to gather her thoughts. 

“Leo. The honey-moon phase. The marriage. Everything about him makes me so, so happy.” She pauses and rubs her knuckles into her eyes, letting out a hiccup of leftover sobs. “But out of everything he’s given me, I still can’t ever be enough for him.” 

“Why would you ever think that Diana? Leonardo is crazy about you.” Maria questions, honestly shocked.

Diana falls silent and Maria contemplates different scenarios. Is there another woman? Had Leo taken up work with his father again? After the initial disapproval of Mr. di Angelo and the rumours of the town, their love seemed unshakable, but as the silence between Maria and Diana grows, she thinks that maybe their love story isn’t as ideal as she thought.

Finally, her older sister speaks up, “We’ve been trying for months Maria,” she takes a heaving breath, “To get pregnant.”

Maria instantly feels warmer, who better to be a mother than Di? Only a few minutes ago she was fussing over Maria, making her a meal and asking her about her day. It’s easy to imagine Diana sloppily feeding her baby girl peas, or tucking her son in and reading him a story.

Unlike Maria who struggles with communicating with others and finds little kids to be unbearable, Diana has always been the go-to babysitter in their small community.

But, something about the situations isn’t right, if Diana were pregnant she would have excitedly rang Maria on the telephone and they would have exchanged possible baby names. Martino for a boy and Claira for a girl. But, sitting in the kitchen crying into Maria’s sleeves, there must be something wrong.

“But?” Maria prods.

“Well you know how much pain my monthly cycle has always caused me,” Diana starts, “It turns out that pain isn’t normal for menstruation.”

Maria recounts the days in which Diana laid in bed at home, while Bruno and Maria went to school. Her period would render her nauseous and in extreme amounts of pain, she’d lay in bed with the lights off and mother would bring her soup.

“Well after 8 months of trying to get pregnant with no results, Leo and I went to the doctor and she said I have a condition called endometriosis.”

Diana goes on to explain that this condition is characterized by the growing of tissues outside a woman's uterus, it comes with pelvic pain, sometimes cysts, and also... low chance of fertility. With a low diagnosis rate and the current depression our country is facing there would be little chance of treatment.

Tears roll down Diana’s beautiful face and land on the fabric of her dress. She picks at the stitches near the hem of her sleeves, an anxious habit she’s had since they were younger. Back when they used to play house with their Raggedy Ann dolls and dream of the future.

How could someone so deserving, someone like Diana with only love to give, not be capable of her heart's desire? Looking at the agony present on Diana's face as her dreams come cascading down around her, Maria thinks that there must be other options.

Taking Diana’s hands in her own Maria pleads, “What about adoption? Or surrogacy?”

Diana shakes her head before the words have even left Maria’s mouth, “You know no one in this town would ever consider us with Leo’s family history.” Diana turns her head to look at the framed family photo above the sink, her mother’s hand protectively placed on her shoulder. “Mom was so excited for me to have kids, she said someone with Leo’s hair and my eyes would be destined to be a heartbreaker.”

It’s true, mom had always loved babies. She said that though some women hated pregnancy, she’d enjoyed her’s every step of the way. Whenever there was a new birth in the parish, mother would cook up biscuits and bring them to the happy parents house as a congratulations. Someday that will be you girls, she’d say excitedly to her daughters.

Diana’s voice cracks as the next sentence leaves her mouth, “Maybe it’s selfish but some part of me always wanted a biological kid, someone who I could have that irreplaceable connection with.” 

Maria squeezes her sister’s hand and tries to think of the perfect words to say without sounding sappy or cliché. Should she mention the fact that Diana has always been someone she looked up to, with or without children? That Diana has managed to be the perfect lady, without compromising her happiness? 

Before she can offer anymore comfort, Diana focuses her red, teary eyes on the oversized jacket clutched around Maria’s shoulders. “Where did you get such a finely tailored men’s jacket Maria? It looks highly expensive.”

Diana’s practiced eyes take in the flawless double stitching on the seams and the delicate golden buttons connecting the cuffs. She walks behind Maria to glance at the tag inside the jacket in the way only a seamstress would. “This has A.H. stitched into the top of it, where did it come from?”

Maria contemplates answering for a moment, would her sister approve of lunch with a stranger? After acknowledging the fact that not only had Diana married a town pariah but also laid her heart bare to Maria mere moments ago, Maria responds. 

“I may have gone to lunch with a good looking gentleman this afternoon.” 

In a matter of seconds Diana is out of her seat and dancing around the kitchen with a grin on her face, but Maria hurriedly waves her hands and reassures her. “Don’t get excited, it was a business lunch to discuss a sale.”

But the light in her eyes doesn’t dim her smile only grows, “Like that’s any less exciting Mari, someone with money and status is finally taking your art seriously.”

Thenn Diana is pulling Maria to her feet and spinning the dials of the radio until she finds the perfect station. The two of them dance around the kitchen, caramel stockings sliding across the hardwood floor, making their movements look far more elegant than they actually are.

Their father hears Senti l’Eco tumbling out of the radio speakers and joins them in the kitchen, “Diana, what brings you here? Shall I have the cook make you supper?”

“No father, I had dinner with Leo before coming here, I simply needed to speak with Maria,” she responds.

The girls lock eyes and silently agree to keep the details of their conversations to themselves. Their father must notice because he doesn’t push for further information.

“Well ladies I’m glad to have caught you both before I head off to bed,” Mr. di angelo says as he pulls both of his daughters into a hug. “I’ll be leaving early tomorrow for a meeting with the council, so I guess I’ll see you two Sundays from now Di?”

Diana nods her head in confirmation and their father retreats upstairs with a final wave.

***  
The sisters spend the next couple hours cleaning the room they used to share, but now Maria counts as her own. They bring the radio upstairs and keep it on low so as not to wake their father. After looking under their respective beds they come across photo albums from their childhood and spend the night remembering the family they used to be.

Bruno’s horrendous haircut on the day he graduated school, Mother and Father’s wedding day, Maria’s first communion.

She doesn’t know if Diana will ever be totally at peace with the way things are, but talking it out seems to have calmed her down. She passes over the pictures of their mother when she was pregnant but Maria decides not to mention it. Her and Leo will get past this with time.

The girls get ready for bed, brushing their hair and changing into nightgowns. Maria tucks herself under her covers and waits for Diana to come back upstairs from her phone call with Leo, letting him know she is spending the night here. 

She can hear children running around outside her window, racing the way Maria and her neighbors used to do when she was younger. In the silence of the room she lets herself ponder-would she ever have kids?

Though she is the youngest in her family, Maria was continuously given chances to dote on younger children. Maria can never forget when she was thirteen and her mother volunteered her to help with their church’s youth group. Following runny noses, forced baby talk, and frequent tantrums, Maria forced the thought of children out of her mind.

But, perhaps she could begin to find them appealing. She imagines dressing her son in a baggy t-shirt and handing him all the colours of the rainbow, watching him finger paint and giggle when he gets it in his hair. She imagines her daughter sloppily baking cookies in the kitchen, hands covered in flour, with an excited look in her eyes.

And Diana, she would be the perfect aunt- taking her niece or nephew to movies and letting them stay up past their bedtime. Perhaps there’s a way Diana could have kids in her life after all, she’d be a good aunt, and she did have a point, mom always wanted grandkids.

Maria finds her sleep addled brain imaging a little boy, he’s got dark hair and surprisingly dark eyes, almost black. She imagines a daughter covered in her freckles but sporting long elegant, pianists fingers. She also finds herself thinking of her dinner partner this evening and the fact that there has to be a reason these characteristics match his own. 

Diana’s light footsteps creak on the stairs at the end of the hallway and shortly after her figure appears in the doorway. She’s holding two glasses, and when she hands one to Maria it is warm to the touch. 

“Milk. To help you sleep.” Her sister explains.

Maria wonders if lack of sleep is something Diana has been dealing with lately, she also wonders if Leo has any idea. She downs the glass of milk as Diana kneels next to the bed and whispers her prayers. Setting her glass on the nightstand, Maria follows suit. She murmurs a quick prayer asking for guidance and a child for Di before climbing back into bed.

The heavy breathing from the bed opposite hers is comforting after months of it being gone. The kids outside her window have gone home and the wind has stilled for the night. Taking one last glance at the suit jacket draped over her desk chair, Maria closes her eyes and surrenders her mind to dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hades is the type of guy who has his initials embroidered on clothing. Hope you like!


End file.
